I think my subconscious is running out of absurd little stories to tell me, I'm sleeping so much. I usually go to bed around 3 a.m., wake up at 2 p.m. and nap on and off till 6 or 7, swallowing Loxapine and Zyprexa at fixed times, drinking the coffee and tea that avails me nothing. I'm even sleeping too much to get drunk--after my second beer I'm too tired to stay awake and drink any more. Lately during my naps I've been having dreams that I'm in my apartment, sitting there smoking, sipping beer, surfing the internet indifferently, picking up books and putting them down. It's like I'm doing all my daily living in my sleep, my boring waking life so rare now that I've started to live it in my sleep. I will usually be involved in some scene, such as turning on lamps, kneading dough for the loaves I eat for dinner, opening my window--and then I will open my eyes on my bed, say to myself, "Oh, I'm sleeping again; why am I always sleeping?--but it's so delightful to shut my eyes again--I'm in such lovely fatigue & weariness," and then I will shut my eyes again, unconscious in a matter of seconds. I think this is the life the Bhagavad Gita condemns--I have the wrong gunas, the gunas of laziness. It's strange to me when religion condemns indolence--I'm not hurting anyone after all, why does God feel a need to condemn the indolent?--they aren't doing anything evil, they are not raping or murdering anyone--I say leave the indolent be, let them sleep--I can hardly blame a man for wanting to rest all the time; that's no crime. It's such a natural need, to sleep; and it is not the lazy that ruin the earth, but the ambitious, the fingers that do not cease to toil, the ones who feel they must make an impact on all humanity--your Hitlers, your Saddam Husseins--they are the ones who make the earth a terrible place; not me lazily closing my eyes on disheveled sheets. And the Bhagavad Gita has me being sent my next life to the womb of a dullard--I don't really care, I would rather have a dullard for a mother than the type to be given to rage and violence--I'll just be a dullard myself in the arms of my dullard mother, the type of which we need more in this world--yes, I'll crawl into her bed and lazily sleep my days next to her, and we'll just order takeout together when we realize we are far too hungry now to cook--it'll be great, Chinese delivery and pizza every day, as the dishes molder in the sink, too dirty to ever use again--we'll have the life of lovely unconsciousness, free from the ambition & passion that leads the human race closer to destruction every day.